Half a Dream: A Renaissance Fantasy Thriller: Giaco & Luca, #2

1

Whenever the Prince moved, the shadow under his skin moved almost, but not quite, with him.

Like most shadows, it could best be seen in bright sunlight, but Giacomo knew it was still there even at midnight, as inseparable from the Prince as the inside of his head.

Now, at high noon, it stood out sharply in the dark circles under his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks. Prince Luca was a pale boy, and had never run to baby fat. He always insisted that he felt perfectly well, but at thirteen he was still small and slight, and he looked perpetually tired, even as he dragged Giacomo out to the courtyard for sword practice.

"Come on, Giaco; Marco and Gianni and Marcello will all be down there already, he said, pulling on Giacomo’s sleeve impatiently. You promised you’d let all of us spar together today."

Marco, Gianni, and Marcello were all dukes’ sons who were currently being fostered in the Castello degli Eredi in order to give Prince Luca someone to look down on. Or so Giacomo had gathered from overhearing the Queen’s remarks on the matter. Only it wasn’t working. Luca had immediately taken to treating the other boys like the older brothers that his real older brother, Prince Desiderato, wouldn’t be for him. Maybe it was because he was still so small, Giacomo thought. He hoped Luca’s hero-worship of the bigger boys wouldn’t blind him to their faults. Luca was of an age to fall under others’ spells, and his assumption that everyone else was as noble as he was meant he had little protection from them.

Marco, Gianni, and Marcello were indeed already waiting for them down in the courtyard, horsing around with their wooden practice swords despite the oppressive summer heat. They stopped reluctantly when Giacomo told them, At attention, Signori. And do not let me catch you at that again.

We were just having fun because you were late, said Gianni. You can’t expect us to sit around doing nothing but sewing wedding clothes, like Luca’s sisters.

The flush that filled Luca’s face almost covered over the shadow, but Giacomo could still see it lurking there.

A duke’s son does not speak slightingly of princesses, Giacomo said, making Gianni’s face go darker than Luca’s. And swords, even wooden ones, are weapons, not toys. If you are to train with me, you will respect that.

Gianni looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it and muttered, It was only a joke, instead.

A poor one. To your places, your Highness, Signori.

Giacomo drilled the boys until all of them except Luca were drooping. He was pleased to see that Luca could outfight any of them easily. He was small, but he was quick and brave. And, of course, he practiced with Giacomo every day, while the other boys only had Maestro Terzio, the weapons master, to train them. Long after the other boys had begun to struggle sluggishly under the midday sun, Luca was still swinging his sword enthusiastically, and jumping from foot to foot whenever he had to wait for the others to catch their breath.

Enough, your Highness, Signori, said Giacomo eventually. The wise fighter knows not to overtire himself training.

I was just getting warmed up, Giaco! Luca protested as the other boys dropped their swords gratefully onto the ground. They gave Luca hateful looks he seemed not to notice.

Pick up your swords, Signori, Giacomo told them. "A good fighter never allows himself to be separated from his weapon."

The boys picked up their swords and followed Luca to the weapons rack, their backs radiating resentment Giacomo’s way.

Can we go riding today, Giaco? asked Luca when he came back. Please? You promised you’d take me riding!

You have painting and dancing this afternoon, Giacomo reminded him.

They were cancelled. Maestro Benvenuto stayed up all night painting the Great Hall. He’s too tired to teach today.

And your dancing lesson with Maestra Alessia?

She stayed up all night with Maestro Benvenuto.

The other boys started laughing and poking each other. They stopped for a moment when Giacomo looked at them, but then Marco made a crude hand gesture, and they burst into gales of laughter again. Luca stared at them in confusion.

I don’t see what’s so funny, he said. His hands get tired after a while, so he needs her to hold things for him. He says she’s much better at it than any of his assistants.

This made the other boys laugh so hard they had to hold onto each other to stay upright, to Luca’s continued bewilderment. His uncomprehending expression only increased their mirth.

Giaco, what’s so funny? he asked, hurt creeping into his voice. I don’t see what’s so funny about that.

Nothing a prince should find amusing, Giacomo said, giving the other boys a look that penetrated even their fogged consciousnesses. Come, your Highness, let us leave them to their base amusement.

Luca kept looking back at the other boys as he followed Giacomo across the courtyard and into the Castello degli Eredi. I still don’t see what’s so funny, he repeated. They’re always laughing about things I don’t understand, especially whenever I mention Maestro Benvenuto and Maestra Alessia. They even make jokes about Adina, now that she’s going to be married.

Some people think that what goes on between men and women is a subject for mirth, Giacomo told him. But such crudeness is beneath a prince.

Oh. Luca thought about that as they climbed the stairs to the top of his tower. Like what? he asked.

I’m sorry, your Highness?

What goes on between men and women that they think is so funny? And why is it so crude to laugh about it?

Nothing that need concern you, your Highness, said Giacomo swiftly.

They seem to talk about it all the time, Luca said doubtfully. And so do Desi and his friends. Even my father talks about it sometimes, when he forgets I’m there. But whenever I ask them what they’re talking about, they either get angry or they tell me I’ll find out soon enough. But how am I going to find out if they won’t tell me?

I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, your Highness, Giacomo told him.

Maybe I’ll ask my mother or my sisters, or Maestra Alessia, said Luca thoughtfully. Maybe this is something ladies know lots more about, like embroidery or dancing.

You’re probably right, your Highness, said Giacomo. A cold sweat of embarrassment was breaking out over his warm sweat from training at the thought of what the Queen would say to that. The part of him that wasn’t agonizing over what to tell Luca was amused at his awkwardness. But it isn’t something they normally choose to discuss with men. Ladies have things they like to keep to themselves, too.

Oh. But then how will I ever find out?

It will happen of its own accord, your Highness, and in good time.

Oh. So can we go riding this afternoon? Outside of the city? Please please please? Everyone else will be welcoming the Astronomers’ Guild. I wanted to be there too and look at the astronomers, but Father said I would only get in the way and I had to wait until I reached my majority to welcome delegations. So can we please go riding? It’s not fair for me to be locked in my room while everyone else gets to look at the astronomers.

It’s very hot today... said Giacomo.

I don’t mind! Please!

Very well.

Thank you, Giaco, thank you thank you! I’ll go tell them to ready our horses! Luca turned around and rushed back down the tower steps. Giacomo followed just fast enough to keep him in sight. Perhaps Luca didn’t mind the heat, but he did, and he needed a moment to think. He wanted to make sure that letting Luca go riding outside of the city was a good idea, and that he wasn’t letting him do something dangerous because of his own desire. Not to go riding, but to keep Luca out in the sun as much as possible, as if that would burn the shadow out of him.

Giacomo knew it was foolish, but he couldn’t help but feel that enough time out in the light of day would cleanse Luca of the darkness he had been carrying around inside of him for the past four years. And the more time Luca spent outside with him, the less time he spent inside with Sauro. He and Sauro had been spending more and more time in secret sessions. The gods alone knew what they were up to, but Luca always returned from them shaking and silent, his face even more full of shadow. Seeing it always made Giacomo swear that somehow, some day, he would break Luca of this shadow addiction. But he didn’t want to give Luca heatstroke in his attempts to cure him.

2

Luca chattered nonstop as they waited for the stablehands to ready the horses, and continued talking as they mounted up and rode away from the Castelli. An afternoon’s ride out beyond the city walls was a major event for him, and he seemed half-hysterical from this sudden good fortune.

Let’s go to the hills, Giaco, can we? he asked. That way we can look down and see the whole city, like birds!

A fine suggestion, your Highness, said Giacomo. Stay close to me now. When Luca was small Giacomo would put him up in the saddle in front of him, but now Luca was much too big for that and had to be allowed to ride on his own. Giacomo was torn between pride at the way Luca sat his horse, as skillfully as he did everything else, and nervousness at being so far away from him. Until he had become Luca’s bodyguard, Giacomo had always treated his mother’s anxiety over his own safety as a child with amused contempt. Now he shuddered just thinking of it.

They wound through the city streets without incident until a beggar-woman standing at a corner suddenly straightened up from her hunch and thrust a bundle of rags at Luca, crying, For the baby, Signorino, for the baby.

Luca flinched back from her and looked uncertainly at Giacomo.

Here. Giacomo handed her a soldo. He had to brush her clutching hands from his leg before he could ride on.

What did she want, Giaco? asked Luca. Why did she want money?

Because she had none, your Highness, and she needed to feed her baby, or so she said.

Then why did she not ask her husband for money?

Perhaps he has no money, or she has no husband.

Then how... Luca did not finish his question. His mouth was pursed in a troubled frown, and it seemed to Giacomo that the shadow stood out even more sharply in the hollows of his cheeks. He remained in his unhappy silence until they rode out the city gates and climbed up the dusty hills to an overlook. Up here, the scent of heat-scorched flowers